


Tap, Tap, Click- Tap, Tap, Click-

by Kato (WritersCoven)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bri's a bit of a jerk, But seriously what was John even doing wrong?, Freddie is always amazing, Freddie is amazing, Gen, John's being annoying, Misophonia, Roger has anger issues, Seriously bad anger issues, so is Brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 18:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritersCoven/pseuds/Kato
Summary: Sure, that distinct click of a pen top being pressed down over and over again was a nuisance to anyone, but it was still bearable to others. It should have been fine for Roger.Maybe he just needed to get a little more sleep.Maybe no one would notice if Deaky just happened to go missing.That would solve his problem for the long-term.~Roger is misophonic, and he's had just about enough of Deaky's pen-clicking shit. Then Brian brings in the coin, and Roger loses it.





	Tap, Tap, Click- Tap, Tap, Click-

**Author's Note:**

> **Request fill! Very fun to write, I hope you all enjoy :3**
> 
> **Hey, this part of my little note is new! And it's going to be everywhere for a little while: Your beloved Kato was hacked darlings, multiple times! Her stuff was removed, even her pseud deleted, her passwords repeatedly changed. It's been a mess. Someone wants to shut me down! But we aren't going to let that happen, are we darlings? Nope! So,**   
>  **Enjoy the reupload! Kato out! xoxo**

Roger Taylor was a drummer. He had a habit of beating on just about anything he could with a plethora of sticks or similar items. He repeated patterns, tweaked them and memorized them, on the daily. This was his job, and he loved it. He loved the pattering sound when he tapped the tip of his drumsticks over the top of his drum. He loved the metallic clinks and dings of bouncing the polished wood over the symbols standing to his sides. He loved these noises.

So why, _oh dear mother of God why_ , did Roger Taylor want to beat the ever living shit out of Deaky for playing with a pen?

Sure, that distinct click of a pen top being pressed down over and over again was a nuisance to anyone, but it was still bearable to others. It should have been fine for Roger.

Maybe he just needed to get a little more sleep.

_Maybe no one would notice if Deaky just happened to go missing._

That would solve his problem for the long-term.

Roger shook his head, rubbing his hand over the back of his hair as he closed his eyes. _Deep breath in, deep breath out. Rinse and repeat._

Honestly, Roger needed to work on his anger management. Deaky wasn’t really doing anything wrong. It was annoying, but it was nothing. Besides, Deaky was currently working on a new song. _What was Roger doing?_ Nothing that would benefit the rest of the band, that was for sure.

_But God-_ Fucking _-Damn it! If Deaky didn’t stop with that damn pen--_

“Something bothering you, love?” Freddie asked, grabbing Roger’s attention.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly. He rubbed the back of his hair again. _Nervous habit. The band knew it._

“There goes Roger, having another one of his little fits because the music isn’t quite his taste,” Brian snapped, rolling his eyes. They’d all been up for a while, and everyone was a little on edge. It didn’t help any that they always got a little more cruel when they were working on an album.

“I am _not_ having one of my _fits_. I don’t _have_ fits,” he mumbled through gritted teeth. Deaky continued to press the button on the pen, up and down, in and out, over and over again. Under the table, Roger could feel his fists balling up, curling and unfurling as his fingers clutched his pants in a death-grip he wished could instead be clenched around Deaky’s tiny throat.

“Right, sure you don’t,” Brian mumbled. He tapped the edge of his coin-- the one he always used as a guitar pick when he was playing-- over the smooth table top, chewing on his bottom lip. Deaky continued to press down on the pen.

_Roger was going to lose it._

He scratched the edge of his face, a little above his cheek, and forced in another deep breath.

_Tap, tap, click. Tap, tap, click. Tap, tap, click. Tap, tap, click. Over and over and over again._

“What do you think of--” Brian started, but Roger flung himself up from his seat at that moment, knocking the chair to the ground with an ear splitting clatter.

“Would you _fucking_ quit that already? For fuck’s sake, John!” he cried, throwing his fist against the table.

Everyone froze. Poor Deaky looked terrified, Freddie looked concerned, and Brian looked almost cross with Roger’s outburst.

“Christ, Roger. What was he even doing wrong?” Brian asked, rubbing his forehead with his pointer finger, middle finger, and thumb.

“Stop with the bloody coin,” he snapped back, slapping his hand over Brian’s and knocking the coin away. “And if I hear that damn pen one more time--”

Freddie, sensing the building tension, rose from his chair and quickly wrapped his arms around Roger’s chest from behind. Into his ear, Freddie whispered, “Come on, love. They’re doing nothing wrong. Let’s go take a break.”

“I don’t need a damn break, Fred,” he glared, tossing the contact off of him. He bent to pick up the chair, righting it but not sitting in it. He ached, but he didn’t know where or how. There was no physical pain in him, but emotionally Roger wanted to scream and tear something to pieces.

He _really_ needed to work on his anger issues.

Freddie was unfazed by Roger’s reaction. Reaching out slowly, he took Roger’s hands into his own and calmly said, “Roger, love, I want you to come with me for a moment.”

Roger was still blazing, still burning with an uncontainable rage, but he followed Freddie all the same. He was led into the hallway immediately outside of the room, where Fred guided him to a sitting position on the floor and knelt in front of him.

Immediately, Roger felt depleted. He could have cried, if he’d had it in him. The rage, the irritability-- everything was gone. “I’m sorry, Fred,” he started. “I don’t know--”

“Everyone has their moments, love. Nothing to be ashamed of. You feeling better out here?”

Roger nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.

Freddie studied Roger’s face, the storm of emotions not quite reaching the surface but still bubbling and seething within the poor man, and slid his hand into a cup formation holding Roger’s cheek. He thumbed the skin under Roger’s eye with the tip of his pinky, rolling the tiny bone over the small groove back and forth. Roger shut his eyes and enjoyed the contact, relaxing into it.

“You good, love?” Freddie asked after a while, and Roger nodded.

“Yeah, think so.”

Freddie looked Roger over once more, double-checking, and then pushing himself to his feet and held out a hand for Roger. As Roger took it and let himself be lifted up, Freddie said, “Let’s get back in there, then, and write some hits.”

**Author's Note:**

> **I hope y'all enjoyed, dears! I had never heard of this before the request, but it was quite fun to write! I hope I did it justice! If anyone else has phobia/other requests, feel free to ask. I just might take them ;)**   
>  **Thanks for reading ♥**
> 
> **Hey, this part of my little note is new! And it's going to be everywhere for a little while: Your beloved Kato was hacked darlings, multiple times! Her stuff was removed, even her pseud deleted, her passwords repeatedly changed. It's been a mess. Someone wants to shut me down! But we aren't going to let that happen, are we darlings? Nope! So,**   
>  **Enjoy the reupload! Kato out! xoxo**


End file.
